Red Fox

A red fox strides past the house of the man who waits for the fox
from season to season
to cross the the path in front of his house.
Fox has a mission.
He is looking forward to leaving his old den
the den of long winters, the dark, the familiar odor of his fur, his breath
and dreams of longing.

The man with the books, rice bowls, and warm tea
has a dream.
He follows the fox to his new den!

This is acceptable to the fox
since he’s been aware of being watched
he has dreamed of this den with foreign odors and textures.

One day a veil lifts.
The dream and man
enter the fox’s den
and fox enters man’s den.

nothing is ever the same again
everything is the same.


Catching My Breath

Poem by

luminous work woven with yellow threads of sunshine and impermanence


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"Whose voice calls me from the furthest reaches of the universe?"

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Exploring the vital intersection of healing arts and indigeneity with Egyptian international interdisciplinary sound artist

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She, who speaks in climactic seed bursts of inspiration and steady sunrises the color of commitment.

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Plenitude of sound / Infinitude of words / Transform within

From “Letters to Ukraine”

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But Ukraine is a country of the baroque

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